I would like to dedicate today’s story to Google Maps, which about 20 minutes ago decided it didn’t like the interactive display I had spent hours designing and reverted to an incomplete version from three days ago, apparently deleting every change I had made since. Thanks, Google Maps. You’re a rock star.

…

This site could go to kindergarten.

A photon shot from the sun the moment this launched passed Alpha Centauri in September.

I’ve spent as much time working on this as I spent in undergrad.

If you’ve done the math on these pages, you’ll realize 1,001 Chicago Afternoons is turning five on Sunday. And if you do the math on my claims above, yes I spent five years in undergrad (there were some problems with credits transferring and, frankly, sometimes classes are hard!)

It has been a long, weird time with a lot of personal life changes, a lot of growth and a lot of bile for stupid dumbface Google Maps, which just plain deleted the big fancy interactive display I’ve been planning for a week to celebrate this milestone.

So in lieu of that, and noting that I’ll run the interactive element later in the spring once I learn to avoid whatever it was I did, here is a brief sampling of a few of my favorite stories from over the years. It’s not how I hoped to celebrate this anniversary, but considering it was sudden, surprising, ruined my previous plans and got my pulse pounding and the creative juices last-minute flowing, I think it might be an appropriate honor for what this site has meant for me and for my life over the last half-decade.

Year Two

#193, #196, #199: The Nut Hut series — A crazy tale told over soup. You should be able to click through all three parts at the bottom of the story.

#220: The Ghost of Herbert Hinchliffe — An OK story, but a great memory. This man’s great-nephew’s wife reached out to me via Facebook to thank me for writing it a few years after it came out. She found it through an idle Google search while doing family history.

Year Five

#718: Barbara’s Bike Ride and #721: The Guide — Barbara Morris runs a black history tour company from her home in Auburn Gresham. Sitting in her kitchen drinking tea and listening to her stories is one of my favorite memories. Not just memories of the site, but memories period.